


The Artist and The Musician

by thebluesthour



Series: Taegyu Oneshots for The Soul [10]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Artists, Bands, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Fluff, Guitarist Choi Beomgyu, Hurt/Comfort, Kang Taehyun-Centric, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebluesthour/pseuds/thebluesthour
Summary: Taehyun is an art student with a focus in painting and Beomgyu is a music major who doubles as a guitarist. They hate each other.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun
Series: Taegyu Oneshots for The Soul [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958551
Comments: 11
Kudos: 148





	The Artist and The Musician

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea after the latest MOA academy content lol! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Leave prompts [ here!](https://curiouscat.me/mapsoftheseouls)
> 
> Not edited.

Taehyun carried his box of paints to the art room, humming under his breath. The school was blissfully empty—it was a Saturday, after all—and so he knew he wouldn’t be interrupted by nosy students or unaware teachers. His art teacher had given him a key to the room ages ago, knowing he could trust the boy to lock up properly when he was finished. The blonde sat the box down as he unlocked the door. He pushed it open with his hip as he lifted the box again and he smiled when he saw his canvas undisturbed the way he had left it the day before.

He went up to the counter, setting the box down and immediately going to grab an apron. He switched his shoes for the pair he left in the studio, and he removed his jacket. He had his work clothes on underneath, stained with so many different colours he looked like a kaleidoscope whenever he wore it. His jeans were stained in the same fashion, but to Taehyun, messy clothes were the marker of a passionate artist.

After washing his hands and tying his apron around his waist, he went about organising his station. He laid out all his brushes, freshly washed, and then he filled up a cup with clean water. Next, he moved his box of paints closer to his table and picked up his phone to sync to the portable speaker and put on his favourite playlist. The soft tinkling of piano filled the room and instantly put him at ease.

He took a deep breath, smiling to himself as he looked at his canvas. The painting was just in the beginning stages, but hopefully by the end it would be a beautiful portrayal of flower petals dissipating into stardust. The colours Taehyun had chosen were the richest blues and deepest purples, with the brightest white to add accentual features. It was an image that had sprung into his mind after watching a nature documentary, and he dashed to campus that night to get started.

Painting was more than just a hobby to Taehyun. It was his passion, his calling, and wherever words failed him, his paintings always succeeded. He could put so many thoughts and emotions into one of his pieces, they all spoke to him, and he hoped one day they could speak to others. All he needed in life was his brushes, his paints, and a blank canvas. If he made a mistake, he viewed it as divine intervention—the universe telling him to switch it up—and he worked with it. He wasn’t a perfect human, but the flaws are what made his creations unique and, in his opinion, beautiful.

As he stood in front of his canvas, the end of his brush poking his cheek as he thought about where to start, the inspiration flowed around him like an actual tangible energy. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he smiled. He picked up his palette, dipped his brush into the dark blue he had chosen (code number 000666 he remembered) and began to paint.

Despite all of his training, painting always came naturally to Taehyun. Sure, his art teachers had taught him so much about respecting the craft, considering his audience, and other more theoretical aspects of being an artist, but some things simply couldn’t be taught. Taehyun’s brush was an extension of himself, it moved with his body and transposed the image he saw in his head. To take a series of neurological symbols and transform into something tangible was a phenomena Taehyun would never get over.

He painted a few petals, and was washing out his brush when he suddenly heard a loud series of booms and a lot of shouting. It startled him, and he was so glad he hadn’t been in the middle of painting, because that would’ve created a mistake he wouldn’t have been so gracious to receive. He turned his head, looking at the door and wondering what the noises were. He hadn’t ever heard them before, and he basically lived at the studio.

He stepped away from his station, wiping his hands on his apron, and going to the door. He opened it and poked his head out. He didn’t see anyone in the hallways, but more voices and the sound of a guitar— _what?_ —filled his ears. He furrowed his brows, slipping back inside and closing the door.

It wasn’t like he owned the building, he couldn’t tell them to leave, so he just hoped they weren’t too disruptive. He returned to his paints, taking a breath to calm himself, and got back to work.

Only he didn’t get very far when more loud noises infiltrated his space. It sounded like band practice, only with a lot of shouting. Annoyed, Taehyun sat his palette down and stomped out into the hallway and to the room across the way that was producing all of the noise. He pressed his lips together as he knocked, crossing his arms.

He felt a little petulant, but he didn’t care. This was the arts building for a reason, the music building was across the street. Granted, it was currently under construction, but that wasn’t _Taehyun’s_ problem.

The door opened, and Taehyun was actually surprised that anyone had heard them. He blinked a few times, staring at the boy who was looking at him, eyes running over Taehyun’s entire body. “Do you really have to be so loud?” Taehyun asked, ignoring the fact that this boy was kind of cute. He had a round face and fluffy hair, was dressed in a flannel and skinny jeans, and he was tall. But he was also smirking at Taehyun, and Taehyun didn’t like that.

“Aw, are we? I’m so sorry,” the boy replied, mockingly. He cooed at Taehyun, chuckling. “I’ll tell my bandmates to play very quietly now, okay?” Taehyun blinked a few times, narrowing his eyes. “I was referring to the shouting,” he said simply. The boy laughed, leaning against the door and it made Taehyun’s blood boil. The nonchalance was, in his opinion, disgusting. “We’ll speak with our inside voices then, hmm?” the boy said, so clearly getting a kick out of teasing Taehyun.

Taehyun pressed his lips together tightly, before nodding and turning around. He heard the boy laugh again as he walked away, but Taehyun didn’t turn back, just went back into his studio and shut the door. It was never good to paint while angry, so he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

He waited a few moments, and it appeared that the boy—despite his rudeness—had actually taken Taehyun’s request to heart and quieted down. With the silence, Taehyun returned to his piece, sitting down and relaxing as he got back into the routine of things.

The next weekend, the painting had progressed to nearly halfway finished, thanks to several evening sessions after classes let out, and Taehyun was growing more and more satisfied. He thought the final piece could be a good gift for his friend Soobin, who appreciated floral prints and would accept anything Taehyun created with his two hands.

He was just moving on to the stardust, a beautiful collage of silvers, whites, and turquoise, when the same loud shouts from last weekend assaulted his peace. He groaned out loud, hands clenching into fists as he shot up and stormed out of the studio. He went straight to the door across the way and slammed his fist against it a few times.

A few seconds later, the same boy opened the door, and he sighed with a laugh as he saw Taehyun. “Let me guess,” he said before Taehyun could even open his mouth. “We were being too loud again.” Taehyun crossed his arms, fuming. “This is the arts building, not the music building, and we’re generous enough to lend you our space. The least you could do is be considerate of those who are used to the quiet,” he said harshly.

The boy blinked, the amused look fading a little as he seemed to actually consider Taehyun’s words. But Taehyun didn’t relax his stance, arms staying crossed and glare fixed into place. The boy ran a hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he glanced up at the ceiling. “So, are you an artist or something?” he asked.

Taehyun blinked, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, _or something_ ,” he spat. The boy crossed his arms and chuckled, and all hope Taehyun had of being the boy being civil left him. “What do you do? Draw? Sculpt? Graphic design?” the boy sneered, leaning forward and looking down at Taehyun even though he wasn’t that much taller. Taehyun really wanted to punch him. “I paint.”

The boy’s brows flew over his forehead and he ‘oohed’ annoyingly. He took several steps forward, enough to force Taehyun to have to take a few back. The door clicked shut behind the boy and Taehyun wondered what the fuck he was getting up to. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said, smirking. “Show me one of your paintings, and if I think it’s good enough, I’ll find us a new place to rehearse.”

Taehyun’s eyes widened, because he was slightly offended but also excited at the prospect of getting the annoyance to disappear for forever. As much as he valued his studio and it was a private space, he acquiesced, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he replied, dropping his arms and pivoting.

The boy chuckled lightly as he followed and Taehyun rolled his eyes again. Seriously, who did this boy think he was? Interrupting Taehyun and then dictating terms? Ridiculous. He pushed open the door to his studio and walked up to his station. He stood next to his incomplete painting proudly, turning to catch the boy’s reaction.

He came to a stop in front of it, eyes scanning over the entire canvas, and Taehyun felt the pleasing satisfaction of proving the boy wrong course through his veins. So what if he was being pretentious, he had earned the right to be. The boy’s eyes flickered over to Taehyun, and he looked sincerely surprised. “Shit, you’re actually really good,” he complimented. Taehyun only scoffed, shaking his head and jutting his hip out. “Does that mean you’ll find a new place to rehearse?” he asked, wondering if the boy would go back on his promise.

But, in another surprise move, he nodded assent. Taehyun’s eyes popped and he knew the boy saw the flash of his own surprise on his face before Taehyun quickly schooled his features. “Thanks,” he managed. The boy nodded again, biting his lip, before taking a step forward. “I’m Beomgyu,” he greeted, suddenly bowing a little.

Taehyun’s eyes widened, the sudden formality and kindness giving him whiplash. He softened his expression, feeling obligated, and bowed a bit too. “I’m Taehyun,” he said. And then he went and picked up his brush and palette, because he really didn’t feel like having a conversation with someone who had been so rude to him up until two seconds ago.

But the boy—Beomgyu—lingered, and so Taehyun looked over his shoulder. “You can leave now,” he said. He really wanted to get back to his work, but he couldn’t help but notice that the boy looked so different when he wasn’t being snarky. His face was softer, more innocent-looking, and he was…well…cute. Taehyun couldn’t deny that. “Your painting is really beautiful, Taehyun-ah,” he said gently, a complete contrast to before.

Taehyun felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly snapped his head back to focus on his canvas. “Thanks,” he mumbled, dipping his brush into some grey and lifting it to one of his halfway finished stars. He assumed Beomgyu would leave, but the door opened too quickly for him to have gotten there, and so Taehyun turned back around again. He was instantly frustrated again because this is not how he wanted to spend his weekend.

He saw someone else walk in, and he didn’t know him, but apparently Beomgyu did. “Yah, Jaebum, get out of here, I’ll be right back,” he said, waving a hand and taking a few steps toward him. The other kid looked around with wide eyes and a shallow smile. “Whoa, hyung, this place is awesome! I’ve always wanted to try painting!” he cried, running up and looking at Taehyun. “Are you a painter? Can I try?” he asked shamelessly.

Taehyun glanced at Beomgyu, who shot him an apologetic glance before putting his hands on the boy’s shoulder and trying to push him out. “Jaebum, come on,” he urged. Taehyun’s heart had started to speed up and his anxiety spiked as he saw the way the boy was looking at all of his supplies. He took a step closer to his canvas, putting his brush down. Jaebum shoved away from Beomgyu’s hands and ran up to stand next to Taehyun. Taehyun’s eyes widened and he went to grab his canvas so he could move it out of harms way.

Only as he did, Jaebum’s arm shot out, and the two collided, resulting in the jar of white paint getting knocked over and spilling all over the lower third of the canvas. Taehyun’s eyes widened as white paint bled all over his perfectly painted flower petals. Time slowed down as he watched all of his hours and hours of hard work go to waste. Because there was no fixing this mistake, it was irreparable and it made tears well up in Taehyun’s eyes.

Jaebum had frozen too, and started to utter an apology, when Beomgyu grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly pushed him towards the door. But Taehyun wasn’t paying attention to that. All he could focus on was his ruined painting and the hot tears dripping down his cheeks and the suffocating feeling of sadness crushing him. He watched as the paint dripped onto the paint sheets below.

He heard the door shut and the silence, and he assumed he was finally alone. He sniffled, more tears falling as he shakily grabbed the roll of paper towels to start cleaning up the mess. He tore his eyes away from the canvas and knelt on the floor. He flinched as Beomgyu suddenly knelt next to him, grabbing the roll of paper towels and silently unrolling several at once. He tore it off and Taehyun looked at him as he cleaned up the spilled paint. He was embarrassed at being caught crying, but Beomgyu didn’t seem to be judging.

He lifted his face enough to meet Taehyun’s eyes, and he seemed remorseful, guilty, and sympathetic. Taehyun looked away.

They cleaned the mess together, and when they threw away the last of the paper towels, Beomgyu faced Taehyun. Taehyun stared at the floor, all inspiration and motivation lost. All he wanted to do was go to his apartment, cry a little, and then go to sleep. Maybe Hueningkai would make something nice for dinner.

“I’m really sorry, Taehyun,” Beomgyu whispered. Taehyun lifted his head, a fresh tear falling. “Why? You don’t know me,” he replied lamely. Beomgyu winced a bit at that, but he didn’t look away. “I would like to get to know you,” he murmured. Taehyun blinked, and if he weren’t so upset, he might have said something sassy. But he just didn’t have the energy. So he looked sadly at Beomgyu and just sighed. “Why?” he asked.

Beomgyu exhaled, taking a step closer. “I was an ass before, it’s a defence mechanism, but that’s no excuse. So, I’m sorry,” he began. Taehyun swallowed, their locked gazes making the sadness not quite so suffocating. “But I can see you’re passionate like me, far more talented, and you have a fierceness to you that I’ve never seen before.”

Taehyun felt a slight blush colour his cheeks as he looked down. A few more tears dripped down and he took a deep breath, wiping his eyes.

“You’re also beautiful.”

Taehyun’s head snapped up and Beomgyu looked so serious it made Taehyun gulp. The boy’s eyes traced his features, and he lifted a hand. He hovered it over Taehyun’s cheek, a question. Taehyun blinked a few times, before taking a step closer in answer. He wasn’t sure if he was just craving the distraction, or if he was being stupid, but in the moment he didn’t care. Beomgyu’s hand rested on his cheek and Taehyun’s eyes automatically closed.

A gentle thumb brushed his tears away, and Taehyun forced himself to open his eyes. Beomgyu was staring at him in such genuine concern, eyes glistening. He was beautiful too. “Let me make up for how I spoke to you,” he whispered. “If anything, let me be a distraction.”

Taehyun stared at him, heart racing, emotions clouding his rationale. He nodded, exhaling softly. Beomgyu gave him a small smile in return.

**Author's Note:**

> So...part two?


End file.
